


Vampire Cuddles

by TheInkRaven



Category: Johnwatson - Fandom, Sherlockholmes - Fandom
Genre: #junepride, John/Lock, Johnlock - Freeform, LGBTQ, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Pridemonth, SherlockHolmes, SherlockxJohn, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolf, Werewolf/Vampire, lgbtqlove, lgbtqlovers, lgbtqpride, lgbtqromance, lgbtqstories, pridemonth2019, supernaturallove, supernaturalromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-04-07 13:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInkRaven/pseuds/TheInkRaven
Summary: We all know the tales of Sherlock Holmes and his cherished companion,John Watson. What if I told you the reason he could solve mysteries with inhuman ease is because he was a vampire? Or maybe Watson's courage was rather...wolf sized?NOTE:  This does not follow the books and most certainly has nothing to do with Tv series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dearest earthlings! I’m participating in Pride Month so hold tight cause there is no way in hell I’m missing that:)  
>  -Raven🏳️🌈❤️🏳️🌈❤️

Peculiar tales have told over the course of centuries as you know but of course most are homespun by old gentlemen slinging poker chips and lingering with a glass of whiskey in their hands. Although, according to resent reports some say there has been supernatural disturbances of sorts on the streets of London,England. 221B Baker Street to be exact.   
Garbage services have put in a note of concern after discovering empty blood bags in the bin and on a few occasions, numerous soiled bandages. On late nights or wee hours in the morning a cloud of bats flying into said resident and the constant disappearance of shiny objects. And last but not least the poor land lady finding fresh donated blood in the refrigerator. The usual.  
   Some people right out called it rubbish. Some people who knew the man stated he simply wanted attention or just labeled him strange. That's usually until they need a murder solved then he's labeled bloody brilliant. Oh well,enough blabbering about 'false' tales and such.   
   The man's name is Sherlock Holmes. A smile that is a little too sharp but matches his wit. Wavy locks of ink that are usually in disarray from a good chase around London,causing shenanigans most likely. Unfortunately sometimes the shenaniganator gets a little too deep in shenanigans. Then his dear friend John Watson will race over (there will be complications if it's a full moon.) and patch the poor detective's wounds.  
   If they are injuries are in a bad state then the good doctor will spare the vampire a little of his blood but only enough to give the pale skin a pink hue. He will watch over him for an hour or so to be sure everything is healing as it should and make sure he sleeping before slipping out to the rooftops. Though Watson always had impeccable control over his wolf side,seeing his vampire laying bloodied and weak in bed angered it greatly. It wouldn't calm until he hunt the very source down and see it was dealt with.   
    So far he had gotten lucky with getting away with doing so but his luck just ran out. On a rather cold winter's night he snuck back in through the window,bare as the day he was born and was met a inquisitive gaze. Sherlock was sitting up in bed with an overstuffed pillow at his back his red eyes glassy from the sedative Watson gave him. "Out doing wolfy things,my dearest Watson?"   
Caught red handed. "Ah,detective. I'm terribly sorry for waking you... I." Sherlock arched a sleek black brow, most likely using his deduction skills as they spoke. Watson cleared his throat nervously. "What make you assume that?" The vampire attempted to wipe the smirk off his lips with the back of his hand which only caused it to widen. Then the harsh truth  donned on him. He had nothing but a small towel covering the necessities.   
"Well,if your lack of clothing is of any indication,then the slight differentiation of your scent and the dazed look in your eyes when you shift is a dead give away."A hot blush seared his skin a lovely scarlet at once. Heavens! How could he be so foolish and forget about the detective's vampiric senses? "Then...then I do hope the smell isn't very bothersome to you,detective."   
A deep sultry chuckle rang out from Sherlock. "No it isn't unpleasant in the slightest. However, I can't have you running about chasing all the bad guys. What if you had gotten injured and I wouldn't know to help you?" In all honesty, Watson neglected to think of that. He supposed he didn't have to because after all, he was a werewolf and just as immortal as the vampire himself. "Here,throw this on. It will no doubt be warmer than what you're wearing." Before he knew it Sherlock sent a thick red robe hurdling at him with vampire speed.   
Watson caught it with reflexes to match the very price of doing so meant dropping the already struggling towel. An uncharacteristic yelp left Watson as he saw the world crash and burn in the blink of an eye. A soft snicker brought his attention back to the detective. Thankfully, Sherlock was thoughtful enough to cover his eyes with a milky hand. "Go on. I'm not peeking,Watson." The werewolf nodded even though the other could not see the gesture and slipped the robe on with a quickness. "Thank you. I will show myself out as I tidy up a tad."   
Sherlock scoffed and dropped the hand. "Absolute nonsense! The bitter cold has already claimed the streets at this hour. It would be a blasted headache to travel all the way home in your tired state. Besides,there is a perfectly good bed right here for the taking." The offer had no right to be so damned tempting. His loft was quite some ways off... Watson hesitantly walked closer to the unused side of the bed,carefully sliding back the myriad of blankets.   
   Sherlock gently took the werewolf's wrist and tugged,causing Watson to topple onto the mattress with a soft grunt. "Come now,the bed won't bite." Watson felt a smile quirk his lips as he crawled underneath the thick warm covers. He huffed a sigh of relief as his body unwinded from the day's activities. Why was Sherlock's apartment cozier? Perhaps it was he didn't have to hide his true nature around him or maybe they've known each other for literally centuries.   
   "I'm very aware the bed won't bite but what if the vampire?" The stars then alined and the world stopped spinning on its' axis. Sherlock laughed,not the cocky sort or snarky kind but a deep carefree,most joyous sound to ever grace Watson's ears. An honest fangy smiley to boot too. "Yes. I do suppose I bite but only when you're alright with it."   
   Sherlock began to shuffle around the top of his bedside table for something that seemed to elude him. Minutes later there was a barely audible click as the electric fireplace sparked to life and almost immediately warmed the room. Sherlock lazily turned the remote in his hand as he watched the fire lick at the fake logs. "Quiet a handy gadget from the modern world don't you think?" He tossed the remote towards the general direction of the table and lay once more on his side. The werewolf nor the vampire didn't utter a word they just simply stared at each other.   
   Red eyes meeting green ones with such a peculiar gentleness lingering in them it was scrumptious. Sherlock reached forward and placed his bony hand in his larger one,slipping his finger between Watson's. The werewolf noticed the dark circles underneath scarlet eyes. He let his index finger trace the dark colored flesh under each eye with upmost care. "It has been some time since you've last drank anything,Sherlock. You must be hungry?" Scooting closer to Watson he sighed with contentment.   
   "I'd much rather cuddle,your warmth is addictive." He supposed that was him asking because Sherlock rest his forehead against his chest shortly after asking. So divine. This must be heaven to be able to feel something so magnificent and to feel so incredibly whole. Watson buried his hand into thick curls while the other lay against his back, stroking soothingly. "Hmm,did you know your heartbeat is my most favorite song in the entire universe,John."   
    Sliding his arms around Sherlock's waist snuggly he pulled him flush against his chest. " If this it too much just let me know. I can get pretty warm." The vampire tangled his long legs with Watson's as a quiet yawn escaped his lips. "No,no this is perfect. You're the only one I like invading my personal space." A toothy grin spread across his face upon hearing this confession. The great Sherlock Holmes enjoys them cuddling together... " Same goes for you,dear detective. Same for you."  
   Indeed the weather was ghastly but on the inside of 221B Baker Street, I assure you the two men were quite warm. Inside and out.


	2. Of Faux Crimes,Cough Syrup and Mistletoe.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fake crime scenes are made, rooms are decorated and kisses happen!

Merry Christmas:D I may or may not re-edit later so here you go❤️

—————————/////////////——————————  
Snow had finally settled on the streets of London, giving it a thorough whiteout treatment. To some the weather was a complete nuisance but to an inhabitant of 221B Baker Street it was perfect to distract a certain vampiric detective. It had been a hastily made plan but it should work.  
You see, John Watson may or may not have sent Sherlock to investigate a fake crime scene...which he made. Granted it wasn't very elaborate but hopefully it would buy him enough time to decorate the tree,the rest of the flat and if time permitted,bake some cookies to decorate later.   
    But Sherlock being Sherlock and a vampire to boot he was not easily fooled. Each second that ticked by was more or less an hour closer to the detective's return so it be best if he began moving his ass!   
——————————————————————————  
Sherlock Holmes followed the sticky red trail over the field and through the woods basically for the hell of it and well,to say he did. But mostly it was for his dearest Watson whom apparently needed him out of sight for reasons unbeknownst to him. Whatever the reason, he could have just asked instead of going through all this bloody trouble!    
   Speaking of bloody what did the man use for the 'crime' scene it smelled absolutely horrid? He stooped low to the ground ;being careful not to drag his scarf through the substance and dipped the tip of his bare finger in the goo. Yuck,damed cough syrup! Refusing to focus on the foul taste and oder of such medicine,Sherlock found the man's heavenly scent clinging to his surroundings as he went deeper into the woods.  
   An hour and a half had passed before his nose went numb and not quite fancying being lonesome before heading home. Home... something that hasn't existed for him until Watson shimmed his way into his dead heart.   
   Stepping in to the small lobby of the complex,he shook any snow residue from his hair and coat on the mat before continuing further. That dammed nosy woman was watching him again. Always nit picking about his nocturnal habits or this and that. Even digging through his waste bins!   
"Out again,Mr.Holmes? While you were playing detective that poor boy you nag dragged a whole holiday tree up the stairs. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

He rolled his eyes at the mere ignorance of the woman. He would have been happy to help had he not been sent away. Instead of arguing, Sherlock flicked her off curtly and began striding up the stairs to their flat . Upon standing at the landing, Sherlock smelt sweet almond, cinnamon and spruce mingling with his lover's own scent. Hmm,absolutely divine.  
  The vampire didn't know what he was expecting but it was not the warm and merry scene before his cherry eyes. Indeed there by the window stood a bulky spruce decorated with the finest stained glass baubles and silver tinsel, even strands of twinkling fairy lights hung around the windows and the tree itself.   
   Sherlock rubbed the pads of his fingers across the fleece blankets placed carefully over their chairs musing over the reason of Watson's doings. The man of his interest stood in the quaint kitchen donning an apron to guard his blue sweater from flour... blissfully too busy mixing to notice his presence.   
   Though the music was joyfully pleasant it could never,never hold a candle to John's bubbly humming or the playful sway of his hips. "I have to get this done before he returns."  He's come back  early... Oh,he really shouldn't but he really wanted to.   
  Sherlock carefully crept closer to Watson noiselessly removing his gloves as he went,then he pounced. He encircled his arms round Watson's torso as he buried he nose against the warm skin of his lover's neck. "Shit,Sherlock!" With a curse and a clatter of a wooden spoon he spun on his heels and gripped black locks to remove the offending cold.  
He was pleased having evoked such a reaction from his companion,causing a smirk to curl his lips. " My dear Watson, I believe the term goes 'no shit Sherlock'. Besides,I really didn't mean to barge in too soon but Jack Frost nearly bit off my nose!" The detective leaned closer to steal heat from his werewolf but Watson dodged with catlike quickness. "No,no! Stop it you're freezing!"   
He didn't really know when Watson had managed to reclaim the wooden spoon but he began waving it at Sherlock with false threat. "Please love,why won't you cuddle me? Does my undead body disgust you now or is it my scent?" He was in the middle of his dramatics when he was suddenly pulled into a fierce arms.  
"No,your body is...perfect. And your smell in nice too." His words were purposefully mumbled against his coat when he spoke. "It's just your nose is so cold and you love to stick it in a warm spot!" Well he wasn't wrong. Sherlock held the back of John's thighs and hoisted him up onto the countertop to not  only deepen the but better it.  
  When was the last time he hugged this man? Sunday... no it was two days ago which was still too long in his opinion. He buried his now warm nose in the junction of his neck and shoulder with a content sigh. “I love you,John Watson.” The detective felt the man tense beneath his hands but he didn't pull back. He just pressed closer until Sherlock could feel his heart thundering in his chest. Such a symphony of divinity doused with passion and painted with love.   
    " Ah,Sherlock?" The vampire peered down to see Watson fidgeting from his spot on the counter. "C-could you maybe look up for me?" Well it was an odd request but he instantly understood after doing so. Mistletoe. No sooner the thought graced Sherlock's mind,warm hands cradled his face as plump lips claimed his. Watson tasted of sugar and mulled cider.  
   Tan fingers knotting themselves in Sherlock's scarf demanding his closeness; making butterflies erupt in the vampire's stomach. Bloody hell he had fallen head over heels for the most spectacular man. They broke for air(for John's sake) but didn't completely pull away. " I hope you can forgive me for the goose chase,Detective. I just wanted to give you a proper Christmas."   
   A deep chuckle accompanied with a peck to the werewolf's cheek. " Forgiven you are but I believe I need more evidence of there being mistletoe." He would investigate him more of this goose chase later.  
   Surprisingly the cookies were not burnt nor the frosting spilled but flour did happen to spread on every surface!


End file.
